Bruised
by honest iago
Summary: SLASH. Bainbridge kicks Howard in the balls by mistake. Vince tries to help Howard, while having some less than innocent thoughts... CHAPTER 3 ADDED: Vince might have finally found a way to make Howard feel better... SLASH WARNING.
1. Bruised

**Disclaimer:** Not mine on any level. If Howard Moon was mine I would probably keep him in a box…

**Notes:** **THE MIGHTY BOOSH SLASH.** This is a bit weird, and pretty short. I was working on another, longer Boosh story but I lost my way with it, and this just popped into my head. It's meant to be tense. Don't know if it really works. Basically, Dixon Bainbridge kicks Howard in the balls by mistake. Vince tries to help Howard. Vince has less-than-innocent thoughts... This is a slash story. That means that romantic and/or sexual feelings between two men will be implied. If you don't like slash, you ain't gonna like this, so you may as well give it a miss. That said, criticism is always welcome, if anyone here is actually interested in The Mighty Boosh fanfiction.

**Warnings/Kinks:** Slightly sadomasochistic, if you squint. PRE-SLASH. Not graphic, but not recommended for youngsters either.

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**Bruised**

It just wasn't Howard's day.

When Dixon Bainbridge arrived and went to kick Fossil in the balls by way of a greeting, he somehow missed and got Howard instead. This might have been because Fossil was using Howard as a human shield at the time. The pain and shock made Howard react instantly in a way no one would have expected. He instinctively head-butted Bainbridge, in a very northern sort of way, before falling to the ground in agony and trying to crawl back to the hut.

Vince helped him, impressed that Howard's knee-jerk reaction to being kicked in the balls had knocked Bainbridge unconscious.

While everyone else was fretting over the prone form of the zoo's owner ("Bainbridge! Speak to me baby! _Moon_, I'll get you for this!"), Vince got Howard back to the hut, and got him an ice-pack.

Howard lay on the sofa, holding the ice-pack to his crotch and whimpering.

Vince locked the door, and shut the blinds.

"Howard, are you going to be alright?"

Howard looked up at him with watering eyes.

"What do _you_ think, little man?" He gasped sarcastically.

"Right. Um, look, do you want me to check you out, or anything? Make sure there's no lasting damage?"

Howard groaned loudly and pressed the ice-pack more tightly to himself.

Vince took that as a no, so he hovered.

"Well, is there anything I can do? Cup of tea?"

Howard glared daggers at him, then yelped in pain.

Vince bit his lip. "You'd better let me see. Just in case. I'm worried about you. You don't need to be embarrassed. I'm your best mate, I won't tell anyone."

More glares. But after a moment's hesitation Howard staggered up from the sofa and stood in front of him, removing the ice-pack from his groin and staring straight ahead.

Vince swallowed, then dropped to his knees cautiously and slowly reached out his hands to undo the top-button of Howard's trousers. His fingers shook slightly as they moved on to the zip, drawing it down gently, carefully.

Howard stood very still, with his legs apart slightly to prevent his trousers falling all the way down around his ankles.

Vince was glad Howard was looking straight ahead and couldn't see how much he was blushing. He looked hesitantly at the large bulge in Howard's underpants, then, very slowly, he brought his hands to Howard's hips and agonisingly drew down the stretchy fabric until the problem area was fully exposed.

Vince just stared for a moment at the bruised and swollen flesh. If he was blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. He felt like he was burning up.

Howard was a big, tall man with large hands and feet, so Vince didn't know what he'd been expecting. But the sight of Howard's manhood, even when it had been kicked and bathed in ice, was enough to make him feel that he deserved the nickname 'little man'.

"Well?" Howard asked through gritted teeth.

"It's still all there."

"Doesn't feel like it…"

Being as gentle as he possibly could be, Vince lifted the shaft so that he could get a better look. His careful fingers probed the bruised area, eliciting a series of groans from Howard, but he found nothing to suggest any lasting damage.

"I think you'll survive." He said at last.

He drew Howard's underpants back up over him and stood up quickly.

Howard lay down on the sofa again, legs apart, flies still undone, pressing the ice against his underwear.

After a while he seemed to have recovered enough to speak, and when Vince handed him a cup of tea, he thanked him awkwardly for his help.

Vince went back to the sink, facing away from Howard, feeling a bit guilty.

He may have tried to help Howard out, but his motives for taking his trousers down hadn't been entirely altruistic. While Howard had squirmed in pain and embarrassment, Vince's own private parts had become swollen for entirely different reasons. Even though he was sorry for Howard's discomfort, something about seeing the older man compromised like that had had a twisted effect on him. He found himself wishing for another, more pleasant excuse to see Howard exposed.

Vince smiled to himself. He was sure he could think of _something_.

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	2. Healing

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, on any level. If I owned Howard, I'd be combing his moustache right now.

**Warnings: **More implied slash, I'm afraid... Not for the young 'uns.

**Notes: **This takes place a few hours after the events in the first chapter. Fossil is extremely mad at Howard for hurting his Bainbridge, Howard's ego is pretty bruised, and Vince is still trying to help out like the good friend he is...

This continuation was written as part of a 'Wine Challenge' on Live Journal. There's another installment to come, which will be really slashy... (yeah, so, fear me...)

Like it? Hate it? Criticism always appreciated.

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**Chapter 2: Healing**

Vince was looking out of the window, with an unfamiliar expression of alarm on his face.

"What's going on?" Howard asked from his position, still reclined on the couch.

"Uh. Trouble. Fossil's coming this way. And he looks… Angry."

"Dammit! What am I going to do?"

"I don't know. You could head butt him? That was really cool, by the way…"

"Vince! Fossil's going to kill me!"

"Alright, look, you'll have to hide, get in the wardrobe…"

"He's not going to fall for that again!"

"Howard, we're talking about Fossil. You could stand there with your hands over your eyes and he wouldn't find you."

There was a very insistent bout of knocking on the door.

Howard dived for the wardrobe and hurriedly shut it after him, while Vince opened the door to reveal a furious looking Fossil.

"Where's Moon? That freakish bitch knocked Bainbridge out! He only just came round. By the time I've finished with Moon, he's gonna wish he'd never heard of wolverines!"

"Sorry Mr. Fossil, he's not here. He must've gone home. He was pretty badly hurt. Bainbridge kicked him first, remember…"

"That's besides the point, Vince! I'm gonna sack his pumpkin ass so bad…"

"You can't sack Howard." Vince said quickly.

"Sure I can, Vincey boy. I'm the manager of this zoo! And Bainbridge ain't gonna be too happy with Moon either."

"Yeah, but Howard's probably the best keeper at the Zooniverse. He's been here forever, and he knows all about the animals. What would you do without him to tell you the animals names? He always gets you out of trouble."

"Yeah… But… That's just… Well, I'm gonna hurt him anyway! He went home, you say? I'm gonna go and find him… Where did you say he lived?"

Vince shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you that, Mr. Fossil."

"Well I'll just have to find it myself, then! I'll look in the book, what is it, the green pages…"

"Good luck." Said Vince, and shut the door.

Still shaking his head, he let Howard out of the cupboard.

"He'll never find it…"

"Thanks Vince."

"What?"

"Thanks, for that…"

"What, for getting Fossil off your back? It wasn't hard. I could've said 'look, a pony!' and he would have gone away."

"Well, yeah, but, I mean… You said I was a good keeper."

"I said you were the _best_ keeper."

Howard smiled. "Well, that, and you helped me out earlier on as well. With, you know…" he began to blush.

"That was nothing. I didn't really help much, I was just worried…"

"Yeah, but you didn't _laugh_ at me. Which was good."

"Why would I laugh at you? Trust me Howard, you've got nothing to be embarrassed about." Vince smiled reassuringly, and Howard looked away.

Vince went over to the kettle as Howard sat down again.

The zoo was closed now. They had nothing to do. They could just sit here and have a cup of…

Vince suddenly had a better idea.

He opened the cupboard under the sink and brought out something they had been saving for a while.

Actually, Howard had been saving it for a while.

Vince didn't usually drink wine. Especially not red wine.

But tonight he could make an exception.

Howard had had a bad day, after all.

He pored the wine out into mugs, which had the advantage of not being see-through, and he gave Howard considerably more wine than he gave himself.

_Because he likes it, and I don't…_

He turned to take the wine over to the couch, and just looked at Howard for a moment. He had on his usual expression of mild dejection, and his hair was messier than usual. There was still a damp patch on his lap where the ice-pack had been resting.

Vince took a deep breath.

"Here you go, get this down you."

He handed Howard his wine, and slumped down onto the couch next to him.

"Thanks Vince…"

_Not even a comment about saving this wine for a special occasion? He must be deep in thought._

He watched as Howard took a long swig, as if the mug had luke-warm tea in it, and was glad he'd brought the bottle over with him.

"Vince… When you said I had nothing to be embarrassed about…"

Vince blinked. He hadn't been expecting that to come up again.

"I meant, er, you've got nothing to be ashamed of, nothing out of the ordinary, you know, down there... Er, trust me on that one." He said hurriedly, his face heating up.

He should have known that Howard's paranoia wouldn't let go of that one.

_I was only trying to pay you a compliment, you idiot…_

"Oh." The older man replied, looking at his knees.

Howard took another swig, and Vince took a sip of his own drink, wincing slightly at the taste.

He noticed that Howard's lips were already stained deep red from the wine. He stared at them for a long moment, then laughed softly.

"Mmmm?"

"You look like you're wearing lipstick. It suits you."

Howard frowned, and got up to peer into the mirror, draining the rest of his mug on the way.

Vince took the opportunity to quietly scoot over, so he was more in the middle of the couch, and when Howard sat down again their thighs pressed pleasingly up against each other.

Vince concentrated furiously on his mug, and took another sip, as Howard refilled his own mug, right to the brim.

Vince smiled to himself.

_So far so good._

Ostensibly, he moved to sit back a little further, but he wiggled sideways ever so slightly as well, unable to resist getting even closer to Howard, encouraged by the way that Howard wasn't trying to move away.

What with the contact, and the memory of slowly pulling down Howard's underpants on a continuous loop in his mind, Vince didn't think he'd be able to stand up for some time.

"So, how is your, er, injury?" He asked boldly.

"Better. Mostly." Howard replied in a gruff voice, running a hand absently through his hair.

"Mostly? Can't have that. Anything I can do?"

Howard scowled at him. "What, you mean like a cup of tea? No, I'm fine with the wine, thanks."

Vince gulped down the rest of his drink. If anything interesting was going to happen here, he was going to need a bit more Dutch courage.

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	3. Tipsy

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, on any level. If I owned Howard, he'd generally be a lot more naked.

**Warnings: **I'm afraid this is R-rated stuff, kids. Men do dirty things to each other. They may even enjoy it. There may be feelings involved. In short, it may make your eyes bleed. If you're young/impressionable/not-a-fan-of-slash, you shouldn't read it.

**Notes:** Sorry, I just can't stop slashing these two. I think this is gonna be the first proper slashy, R-rated, Boosh story on this site. What a claim to fame. I really appreciate criticism, but I think mainly I just want to spread the Boosh love around. 'Ave it.

Oh yeah, it continues on from not long after the last chapter left off. And _italics_ equals Vince's thoughts.

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**Chapter 3: Tipsy**

"And then, you just, just sort of leaned back, and then came right forward and twatted him. You could hear the crack! Oh, it was beautiful…"

"You know, I was there, Vince."

"Well, yeah, but it was just amazing… You have got to teach me how to nut someone like that!"

"Well, maybe another time, little man." Howard said, shaking his head.

They'd finished the first bottle of wine, and were well into their second.

Vince had gradually started pouring himself and Howard equal measures, forgetting about the taste as he became tipsy.

"What you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing."

"No, go on, tell me!"

Howard frowned and hesitated for a moment. "Alright. I was thinking you've been pretty nice to me today."

"I'm always nice to you, Howard."

Howard simply rolled his eyes in response.

Vince was now so close to Howard that if he got any closer, he'd be in his lap.

He was working up to it.

Their hips kept grinding against each other as they shifted their positions on the sofa.

Vince was shifting quite a lot now.

And Howard hadn't complained yet…

Vince decided to push his luck.

"How's the patient?" He glanced pointedly at Howard's crotch unable to stifle a quick laugh at his own words.

Howard cleared his throat for a ridiculously long time. "Uh, he – I mean it – feels a lot better now, thanks…"

Vince steeled himself.

"Oh good… Are you sure you wouldn't like me to… um… take another quick look, I mean, just to be sure it's all alright now, and everything…"

He took a deep, steadying breath.

Everything hinged on how Howard answered this question.

Because Howard would surely know it was a ploy. A rather obvious ploy.

He imagined that he could hear Howard's heart beating in his throat as he waited for a response.

And waited…

He didn't dare look at Howard.

When, at length, he replied, Howard's voice came out about an octave higher than usual.

"I, uh, I… Well, it _might_ be a good idea, little man… You know, just to be sure that it's recovered alright. It was pretty sore earlier…"

"Yeah, I mean, just as a precaution…"

Howard looked at him, his face a picture of terror and confusion, and they both just sat there in silence for a moment.

Then Vince stood up shakily.

"Yeah…" said Howard, and got up.

_Oh god, he agreed… I can't believe he agreed…_

_He must be drunker than I thought… _

Vince's hands were shaking as he knelt down in front of Howard, for the second time that day. They shook so badly it took him a full minute to undo the top button.

Howard was completely still. Only his deep, ragged breathing gave away his nerves.

The zip was down now…

This time, Vince pushed Howard's trousers all the way down to the floor, his eyes travelling hungrily up and down his legs.

His hands were resting on Howard's hips…

Now they were pulling down on the underpants…

Pulling…

Until the underpants too were around his ankles.

Vince's face was hot, and his throat was dry.

He risked a look up at Howard's face. The older man's eyes were closed, but as he felt Vince's gaze, he blinked down at him, with hugely dilated pupils.

Vince smiled.

_Because of me…_

He turned his attention to Howard's now painfully obvious erection.

That was because of him too.

It was good to know that.

Howard gasped out loud, and squirmed where he stood, as Vince's hands reached behind him to clasp his buttocks.

Vince pressed a fleeting kiss on the line of hair that ran down from Howard's belly button.

Then he ran his fingers lightly over Howard's straining dick to his bruised balls, cupping them, stroking them, before dropping his hands to his own lap and saying wickedly;

"Well, it all seems to be in working order. No problems down here. Perfectly healthy."

He made as if to get up.

But Howard's large, strong hand was on his head, holding him down.

"Vince…" He growled, warningly.

Vince's loins were set alight by Howard's authoritative tone, his own erection growing by the second.

He kissed the head of Howard's dick gently, then slid his mouth down slowly, keeping his teeth back.

Howard's whole body seemed to tense even more - he was so primed it was almost over before it began.

They both were.

But Vince couldn't seem to take Howard in far enough… Not without his stupid teeth getting in the way…

He kept his mouth resting halfway down, where it didn't feel too uncomfortable for him, and swirled his tongue around the hardened flesh.

Howard was silent, but when Vince's hands cupped his backside again he cried out a little.

So Vince kept his hands there, and continued to work with his mouth for a while…

Tasting Howard…

Vince's stomach clenched violently at the thought. He was dangerously close to the edge now, the pent-up longings of earlier rushing back in on him all at once, making his head swim and his balls ache.

But what about Howard?

_It's no good. He's not going to come this way…_

_Not soon enough for my liking, anyway…_

He pulled back, with some added suction, and Howard gasped again.

Vince looked up questioningly.

"Like this?" He asked, curving his fingers around Howard's dick firmly.

Howard looked down, all flushed and dishevelled, and nodded.

_Alright then._

Vince undid his own flies quicker than he'd ever done in his life and reached tenderly inside.

One hand for Howard, one hand for him, pumping, beating…

Stroking…

Howard cried out again.

_He's getting closer._

But not quite as close as him.

Vince spilled into his own hand suddenly, with shuddering moans, and the hand stroking Howard's aching hardness paused briefly.

Recovering as quickly as he could, he wiped his trembling hand on Howard's buttock, clasping it firmly to steady himself, as his other hand resumed it's previous action.

He pre-emptively moved his face out of the way, and as Howard writhed in his grasp,

Vince peered slyly up at his friend, wanting to see what he looked like in the moment of release.

"Howard…" He said, low and quiet.

The face that was at first scrunched up, contorted with pleasure and pain, suddenly relaxed, and Vince felt yet more wetness pumping out into his hand, as Howard gave his loudest cry yet.

They stayed frozen in the aftermath for a while, panting.

Eventually, Vince got up to wash his hands, and Howard slowly pulled up his trousers.

They both made it back to the sofa and sat in dazed silence for some time.

Naturally, Vince found his voice first.

"So, yeah, I'd say you're fully recovered. More wine?"

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End file.
